


Battlefield of Dreams

by louissiuol



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seduction, ares is the god of bravery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29606091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louissiuol/pseuds/louissiuol
Summary: If you build it, he will come.Hypnos has been sending an odd, warlike presence in the dreamscape recently - and for some reason, he can't put it out of his mind...A short fic in which Hypnos' attempts to lure the god of war to a battlefield in the dreamworld, with predictably chaotic and unpredictably delicious results.
Relationships: Ares/Hypnos (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hypnos lures Ares to the dreamworld, for reasons that aren't entirely clear to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic, I hope you like it! (The idea maaay have come to me in a dream.)

It wasn't a trap, Hypnos repeated to himself, alone on an empty battlefield under a clouded red sky. He could build a little corner of dream for himself, and if it just so happened to resemble the odd, lurking presence he'd felt there recently, well, he could hardly help that, could he? He was the master of the dreamscape, for goodness' sake, even if he didn't go bossing everyone around like some others he didn't care to mention. He could build whatever he wanted. Even... this.

Besides, the little god reasoned, pacing to and fro, there was for sure something odd going on in the dreamscape recently. Hypnos was no stranger to odd happenings - darkness, it would probably be stranger if nothing weird were happening in the sleeping world - but this felt different somehow. For the last few months, he had felt an odd sensation coming from someone in the dreamworld - a nagging sensation that he was being watched, or even hunted. 

Ordinarily, Hypnos would have dismissed these feelings as a flight of fancy, or maybe stress caused by trying to run the sleeping world alongside his (probably less vital, but still super fun) job greeting newly-arrived shades in the House of Hades. And yet - he couldn't shake the feeling that there was some dark being lurking in the dreamworld. Every attempt to track the source of the disquieting feelings had been utterly fruitless. 

By this point, Hypnos was utterly frustrated, and had decided to try an alternative tack. For days now, he had scrupulously worked to create a corner of the dreamscape that resembled the fleeting glimpses of the dark presence he had gotten. He stood now, hands on hips, proudly looking out at the scene he had created: an open plain, that faded to sheer darkness at the edges. Inky black clouds roiled in the sky in front of a setting sun, bathing the scene alternately in shade and a soft red light. It resembled the backdrop of some epic battle, a scene torn from a warrior's nightmare. And, of course, the piece de resistance: the god of sleep himself, the most alluring bait for a creepy dream-monster that Hypnos could think of.

Okay, so maybe it was technically a trap.

\-----

Hypnos had waited and waited for what seemed like an age. Why had he created such a lonely - and terrifying - dreamscape, he asked himself? Come to think of it, what kind of person - or creature - would be looking for a place like this? He gave a little involuntary shudder at the thought, and slumped dejectedly to the floor.

All at once, a deep voice behind him sent a shiver down his spine. "You."

Hypnos turned, and his jaw dropped as he saw who had stepped into view. He gazed up at the intruder, dumbstruck.

Lord Ares, God of War and Courage, was a well-muscled figure clad in gleaming armour, and he carried himself with the pride and dignity that befitted a son of Zeus. He wore a curved helmet that made his appearance even more imposing, and carried an elegant shortsword in his hand. His armour, in dazzling silver and gold, looked to be heavy, and yet he moved as if he were hardly aware of it. The burning sun cast a reddened glow over his nut-brown skin, and his silver hair seemed to gleam scarlet for a brief moment.

Hypnos thought he was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

Lord Ares drew to a halt facing him. Shaking off his daze, Hypnos belatedly closed his mouth and scrambled to his feet. 

Ares spoke again, his voice rich with confidence and self-assuredness. "You are Hypnos. You're a friend of my nephew." His eyes were fixed on Hypnos' face. 

Hypnos felt riveted to the spot. Was the other god going to attack him? Maybe the trap hadn't been such a great idea. He licked his lips nervously. "Y-yes. I'm Hypnos." He fought to stop his hands from clenching. "And you are Ares. The god of war," he added, in what was possibly the world's stupidest attempt to keep a conversation going.

Ares arched an eyebrow at that, but remained otherwise still. "Indeed. What gave it away?" he murmured sardonically, his sword and armour glinting scarlet in the light. "I've been looking for you for some time," the god added, a wry smile playing on his lips. Ares' eyes roved over Hypnos' face, just briefly, and then returned to meet his gaze.

The sword was still in Ares' hand, in what Hypnos hoped was the sort of casual sword-holding that meant "I can't be bothered to put my sword away" and not "I'm preparing to run you through with this deadly weapon". He didn't have a great deal of experience with swords, so for now he decided the safest thing was to be polite. "Oh!" He blurted. "Uh, I felt your presence out there. And I've been here, of course. And also, you know, not here. Because I have two jobs. So, not just here. But then I wanted to - find you. Um. Out there. So..." Darkness, why couldn't he stop talking nonsense? 

Ares smiled a little wider, a knowing look in his eyes. "I… see." He said delicately, after a brief pause to make sure that Hypnos had definitely ceased his rambling attempt at an explanation. The war-god lifted his eyes from Hypnos nervous face to take in their surroundings, gazing at the blood-red sun beyond the dark clouds, and the dirt-plains that stretched out into the distance. The smile faded from his face. "I see." He murmured again, and this time, Hypnos could almost swear that he had a troubled air about him. "So you built for me a battlefield."

Uh oh. That was exactly what had happened, and Hypnos hadn't really thought about what the implications of luring the literal god of war to a battlefield would be, except that his earlier pride at his inventiveness now seemed like the height of stupidity, and was it him or was that sword getting sharper? He swallowed, unable to answer or even move, as the war-god stepped towards him.

Ares pressed his lips together, and slowly lifted his sword to Hypnos' throat. He could feel the sharp blade resting against the soft skin of his neck, and fought the urge to gulp again. Frowning, Ares stepped closer, so that their bodies were almost touching. The point of his sword tracing a line down Hypnos' neck to his clavicle, Ares bent down a little to speak into Hypnos ear. "The question is," he murmured, his voice soft and husky, "do you intend me to fight with you… or for you?"

Hypnos could hardly breathe. Ares was so close, he could almost believe that he felt the warmth of that muscular body even through the heavy armour. He didn't really want to think about why being held at swordpoint was turning him on so much. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get himself under control. 

At once, he heard a growl behind him. He opened his eyes as Ares was withdrawing the sword from his neck, replacing it briefly with a thumb that caressed his jaw. "So be it," Ares said, and stepped back with a soft chuckle, "I shall fight for you."

The god took his shield in his free hand, falling into what Hypnos was pretty sure was a fighting stance. Dismayed, Hypnos turned around, and his jaw dropped again.

Blood and darkness, how had he summoned the Nymean lion? 

The beast was three times the size of a normal lion, and yet Ares seemed no more perturbed than he would by a child with a wooden sword. The lion bared its knife-like teeth and crouched, its yellow-brown eyes focused on the god inching toward it. 

Hypnos groaned inwardly. This was a disaster! Even if he had wanted to hurt the other god - which he obviously would never - surely calling a legendary beast to attack them was both overkill and also, you know, sort of cheating? This definitely felt like one of those myths where there was a villainous underhanded God who tried to trick a noble, virtuous Olympian. If only he had paid more attention when Thanatos had tried to train him with weapons when they were younger, or when Zagreus had been training with Achilles. But Hypnos had never really seen the use of weapons - honestly, he hated violence in all its forms. You know, that was probably why Lord Hades thought he made a good concierge for the House. Unfortunately, it was also the reason he didn't carry a blade… and the reason he would be unable to do a thing to help now.

At times like this Hypnos really wished that he could curse properly. "Blood and darkness" didn't really convey the force of his feelings here. He'd lured a god to certain doom in the dreamworld, and for what? Curiosity? Or something… darker? 

Maybe the villains didn't always know they were villains until after the story was over.

"Aha!" 

A triumphant yell from Ares pulled Hypnos from his reverie. He stared, and gaped, then stared some more at the tableau that presented itself.

Lord Ares had one arm around the neck of the Nymean lion, his sword in the other hand pointed at the beast's heart. Panting, the lion had collapsed to the ground, where Ares held it firmly in place. One enormous paw clawed feebly at the dirt, but Ares squeezed tighter, and it whined pitifully. The war-god threw a gleeful grin at Hypnos. "Might we count this as a win, Hypnos? I should hate to end the life of so noble a creature in sport, even if this is but a dream."

Hypnos felt a thrill pass through him at that - the powerful Lord of War requesting his permission to act - and a tiny smile lighted on his face. "Sure!" He said brightly. "That seems fair! I mean, I didn't intend to summon it, so - yes!"

At that, Ares released the lion, and gave it a fond thwack on the flank as it rose. "Go on then, beast." With a low growl, the beast turned its head, gave a last, somewhat offended, look at Ares, and padded off into the darkness.

Hypnos eyed the war-god as he walked towards him. Ares was now slick with dirt and sweat, though his armour still had an unnatural gleam. "W-wow," Hypnos let out, "you must have really gotten into it!"

The grin hadn't left Ares face, though it seemed to transform now into something more wolfish. He was close to Hypnos' now, and he smelled musky, a mix of sweat and animal, with a faint metallic tang of blood. "Indeed, I believe you could say that. Although…" Here he let his gaze drag slowly down Hypnos' body and back to meet his eyes, "I rather think the compensation will be worth it."

Hypnos' mouth went dry. "Uh, I'm sorry… The compensation?" He quivered, confused.

Ares brought his thumb to Hypnos' chin and held it, his grasp light but firm. He turned Hypnos face this way and that, his eyes seeming to drink in every part of the dream-god's face. "I said that I was fighting for you, my dear. And now I have won you. Did you not intend me to claim my prize?"

Hypnos couldn't speak. His mind raced, and his heart thumped. He had never - not with anyone, and now this - this divine warrior was coming to take control of him? He stood, mute, and stared at Ares, his eyes wide with terror.

Ares paused, his hand still on Hypnos' chin, and at the look of sheer horror on Hypnos' face, comprehension seemed to dawn. "Ah," he said delicately, removing his hand from Hypnos' jaw. "Am I to understand that you are inexperienced in these matters?"

Hypnos blanched, and nodded. Of course he was inexperienced, just look at him - scrawny and timid and always in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing. Stupid of him to admit. Now the incredibly attractive god wouldn't want anything more to do with him. 

Wait, what?

Ares nodded, seemingly to himself. "I completely understand, my dear. And it's obvious that you want me, so the next battle will be here -" and he tapped the side of Hypnos' head, then brushed an errant curl behind Hypnos' ear. "Luckily," Ares added, "I have the stamina for a long campaign." He grinned, and moved to start unbuckling his greaves. "At present, I think bathing is in order."

Hypnos stood, dumbfounded. For once he was glad of the red sky, because he was blushing red as a berry. 

Ares glanced up at him, and smiled softly. "I do not mean to frighten you, my prize. Consider this: you are the lord of this realm, and if you want me to stop, or to disappear, you need only say so." He brought his hands up to Hypnos' hair, where they stroked gently through his soft white curls. Hypnos felt his eyes half-close at the sensation of pleasure and comfort, of being lightly caressed by the powerful god. "And yet," purred Ares into his ear in a voice that made Hypnos' stomach clench, "I think you want me to remain, do you not?" He stepped back, withdrawing his hands from where they were entwined with Hypnos' hair, and the dream-god unwittingly stepped towards him at the loss of contact.

Ares smirked at the little god, who now looked confused and rather delightfully mussed-up. "Very well, my prize. We shall bathe, but first, I shall have you attend me. Fetch oil and a strigil. Oh, and you'll need to be naked."

Hypnos blinked at that, and Ares smirk widened to a grin. "You heard me, my prize. Strip."


	2. Oiled

"Strip." Ares said, coolly. 

Hypnos felt all the blood drain from his face. "W-what? Uh. Are you saying you want me to - take my clothes off? Here?" He gestured wildly at the open battlefield around them. 

Ares' mouth curved into a smile. "Well, we'll both have to undress. And it seems like we haven't a choice in the location, unless perchance you happen to know any powerful gods who can control the sleeping world?" He arched an eyebrow, halfway between a tease and a challenge, as his fingers wrestled to undo the strap on his greave.

Well, duh. Hypnos cursed his own slowness and briefly pressed his eyes together. When he opened them, they were in a curtained hall, silky drapes in dark reds and browns cascading down from an impossibly high ceiling. From along the corridor, warm, scented steam was wafting towards them. Lord Ares had wanted a bath, after all. The dream-god felt a small tremor of pleasure run through him at his success. After a moment, Ares looked up again, and gave a low whistle at their new surroundings. "Very elegant," he murmured, sounding genuinely impressed. "I think this bodes rather well for the rest of the evening, my prize. Although I cannot help but notice that you have yet to shed any clothing. Just an observation." Hypnos' heart skittered in his chest. "Of course," Ares added in an explanatory tone, "I suggest it only to be considerate of your own lovely attire. If you're to be oiling me up and tending to me before we bathe, I scarcely think that you'd want to risk getting all that nasty oil and dirt on your clothing. I'd assist you in undressing -" here he paused, and ran his eyes again down Hypnos' body, sending a thrill down the smaller god's spine, " - but, as you can see: I'm utterly filthy." Ares gestured remorsefully at his large and very dirt-streaked frame.

Oiling him up? A filthy god of war? Blood and darkness, why did that sound so terrifying - and appealing?

Now that the rolling clouds and red sky had been replaced by the softer glow of unseen candles, Hypnos could see Ares' expressions far more clearly. His eyes no longer seemed to be blood-red - instead, they were dark as night: jet-black pools that seemed to hold the promise of mysterious and forbidden pleasures within. There was a definite glint in them now that suggested Ares knew exactly what effect his comments were having on Hypnos. 

Well, two could play at that game. Hypnos slowly tugged his cloak from his shoulders. As it fell in a heap on the floor at his feet, he reached behind him to unclasp the gorget he wore at his neck, and placed it gently at his feet. His hand hovered at his belt, fluttering anxiously. He'd never disrobed in front of anyone like this before, not with this heated thrill in the air that seemed to exist between him and Ares. He could feel his blood singing in his veins and felt sure that he was blushing furiously again. Before he could think on it any more, he slid off his belt and tugged at his chiton, and both tumbled to the ground. He stood, quiet and oddly defiant, and tilted his chin as proudly as he'd seen Ares pose earlier. And if he was blushing and too embarrassed to lift his eyes from behind his long, white lashes, what did it really matter? He was a god too.

Hypnos could tell when Ares noticed that he'd undressed, because that was when he dropped his breastplate on his foot. He couldn't help but look up at the noise. "Curse it!" Ares bit out, reaching one hand to rub at his bruised foot, but he could scarcely draw his eyes away from the naked god who stood before him. Hypnos felt his hot gaze prickling across his skin as though Ares were tracing across him with fingertips, not eyes. After a long moment, Ares cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away. "Help me get this armour off." Was it a command or a plea? Somewhere in between, Hypnos decided, stepping towards Ares and beginning to slide open some of the buckles on his pauldron, very carefully not asking himself why he was apparently content to go along with whatever Ares suggested. Removing the pauldron brought him perilously close to Lord Ares' body, and he could both feel the heat rising from the other god's skin and smell his musky scent more strongly. It was overpowering - something about the sensations, touching and smelling the war-god, sent a shiver down his spine. It was as if every inch of his body, his skin, was becoming more aware of Ares' presence the longer they were in proximity. 

Swallowing hard, Hypnos tried to collect himself, and together, the pair busied themselves with removing the rest of the armour. Hypnos' fingers pressed against the heat of Ares' skin, tugging and dragging at leather straps and buckles. Finally, Ares was clad only in the linen chiton he wore under his armour, which he dragged off with a careless tug. As it fell to the floor, Hypnos reflected that concentrating on undressing Ares hadn't necessarily been the best technique for someone trying to get the image of a naked Ares out of their mind, because the Ares who stood before him now was, unquestionably, super naked. 

And how. 

The war-god stood almost a foot taller than him, his skin brown and glistening with sweat. He looked triumphant, regal, as though he was aware of the impression he made with his naked form. Hypnos badly wanted to swallow his anxiety with a gulp, but he managed to stifle it. He'd never seen anything like Ares in the flesh. His broad, muscular chest was dusted with fine silvery hair, and his flat, toned stomach led down to a pair of well-defined muscles by his pelvis that seemed to point towards - Hypnos couldn't help but raise his eyebrows - the largest, thickest cock he had ever seen. It was currently standing at attention, bobbing towards him. Ares followed his gaze down, and looked back at Hypnos with a grin. "It's yours when you want it, my dear," he said softly, half-teasing, and let out an amused chuckle as Hypnos flushed again in response. "But don't think I'm not going to make you work for it. Bring oil and the strigil now, and you can clean me off before we bathe." His tone now carried a hint of imperiousness. He stretched his thick arms over his head, one and then the other. "You can't get in the baths with me like this; I'd turn the bathwater to mud."

"Uh, sure! I can do that. A strigil. Uh, and oil. For the… oiling. Coming right up!" Hypnos blinked again, focusing for a second, and turned to draw back one of the curtains that lined the hall. He was relieved to find a jar of oil and a long metal implement that resembled a flat, dulled blade. He'd never oiled anyone down before, but how hard could it be? It wasn't as if he could accidentally wound Ares with a blunt strigil, right? 

On second thoughts, best not to dwell on that. Of course, then he might find himself thinking about something even more dangerous. Like, say, rubbing oil over the naked body of an aroused god of war. While Hypnos himself was also hard as hell, and had absolutely no clue what to do with it. Probably better not to dwell on that, otherwise his brain might decide to stop functioning, like it did whenever things got too overwhelming.

One thing at a time. Oil.

He walked back over towards Ares, who'd turned away from him, presenting Hypnos with a breathtaking view of his broad, muscular back. Ares brought one had up to his hair, to draw it forward, and glanced back almost coyly over his shoulder. The muscles in his back moved in a way that made Hypnos recall dreams of bodies shifting under silk blankets. "Can you reach, my prize? Or do you want me on my knees?" 

Hypnos frowned. "Oh, I can reach fine. I'm not that much shorter than you, actually. And -" he continued, in a burst of bravery, "you don't need to keep calling me your 'prize', you know. I have a name." He watched Ares' back straighten momentarily, as if in surprise, but then he relaxed again almost immediately. "Very well - I shall call you Hypnos," said the war-god in a soft breath, blinking back at him under surprisingly long, dark lashes, and Hypnos could swear that he felt a new warmth in Ares' voice. "You are my prize though. You brought me here and bade me fight a legendary creature for you, after all. And, frankly, I am astounded that such a prize has gone unclaimed for so long. I can only surmise that the denizens of the underworld have extremely poor taste. Still," he added, and now his eyes locked with Hypnos, "their loss will be our gain, won't it… my prize?"

The dream-god felt a flutter of nervousness at that, and found he could only respond with a noncommital squeak so high that only Cerberus would be able to register it. Yanking his eyes from Ares', he occupied himself with removing the stopper from the oil. He debated pouring the liquid directly onto Ares' back, but reasoned that it might be cold and rather unpleasant-feeling, and he certainly didn't want a peevish war-god on his hands, did he? 

Of course, that did have the rather unfortunate (and tragically unavoidable) consequence that he'd have to apply it to Ares' back himself. He only dared to warm the oil in his hands for a moment, fearing that he'd lose his nerve, before he pressed his hands into the heat of Ares' muscles. At the first touch, Hypnos felt a jolt pass through him, and he was half-convinced that he felt an answering quiver from Ares. Mastering his nerves, Hypnos began to let his hands move in circles, small at first, slowly getting wider and wider, until the whole of Ares' back was slick and shining with oil. Ares let out a muted groan as Hypnos kneaded and pressed the muscles by his shoulder blades, and Hypnos couldn't ignore the frisson of pleasure that went through him at that small sound. This was more physical contact than he had had in a long time - maybe even since he was a child - and he had never had contact like this with anyone.

Skirting past the curve of his hips and buttocks, Hypnos lowered himself to one knee to apply oil to Ares calves, running both hands carefully up each leg, past the knee, moving continuously in slow circles up the thighs, stopping before he got anywhere too - dangerous. Even so, it was impossible to ignore the throbbing that he felt in his cock at this unprecedented, illicit contact between his long, wet fingers and this hard, muscular body. He skated past the firm buttocks again to Ares' shoulders, adding more oil and working it into his upper arms, biceps, forearms and hands. As he worked, he lost himself in the heat and physical pleasure of tending to the war-god.

After a while, Hypnos found himself having oiled both of his arms, massaging one of Ares' hands between both of his own. He looked up at Ares, who turned to face him, and stood expectantly. Of course, Hypnos realised - Ares expected him to oil his chest as well. Looking away from Ares' implacable smile, Hypnos warmed more oil in his hands, and stepped towards Ares. 

A sudden jolt went through both of them as their cocks brushed together. Hypnos gasped, and felt a second tiny thrill as he heard the small moan that escaped Ares. He looked up, and was met with a look of such heated intensity from Ares that he felt scorched all over. 

The war-god licked his lips, slowly, but didn't move. "What do you want, Hypnos? Be honest."

They were standing so close that their cocks might touch again, at any moment. All it would take was the slightest movement from Hypnos. 

He froze. It was too much - nobody had ever wanted this with him, and he was always messing things up and embarrassing everyone, and this seemed like a really scary thing to mess up. He couldn't do it. Hypnos turned his eyes, shining like molten gold, to meet Ares, and shook his head mutely. 

Ares stared down at him, his eyes aflame once more. "Hypnos. Perhaps you forget that I am the god of both war and courage. As I believe I made clear already, you are quite obviously at war with yourself over the matter of your…" he raised a delicate eyebrow, "...desires. You must know that fighting such a campaign, to have you surrender to yourself, and to me: that would be deeply, immeasurably satisfying to me. But the surrender - that must come from you, my prize." He traced one finger, rough from battle but slick with oil, along Hypnos' bicep down to the sensitive skin of his inner elbow, and lowered his voice. "I only want you when you are ready to admit what exactly you want. And when you are ready to accept it." With that, he turned swiftly around to present Hypnos with his back. "Well?" he demanded after a moment, glancing down at the mix of grime and oil that covered his body. "It's not going to scrape itself."

Hypnos shook his head, as if he were coming out of a daze, and reached for the strigil.


	3. Bathed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time... BATH time.

Kneeling, Hypnos gently scraped the metal strigil across Ares' calves to remove the last of the oil. Once again, he had become absorbed in the task of attending to the brutish-looking, inexplicably gentle war-god, revelling in the way that the gentle pressure of the metal on his skill had caused Ares' skin to turn to gooseflesh, how his breath seemed to get a little shorter when Hypnos scraped over his hips, his inner elbows, the backs of his knees… how his nipples had hardened at the merest brush with the dulled blade. It made the little dream-god feel more powerful than he had in a long time. That he could make a powerful god like Ares feel this way, losing control of himself. It felt different. Felt good.

His work complete, Hypnos stood and turned to place the strigil on a hook, behind a curtain. As he turned back, he caught Ares staring at the long curve of his arse with a face like a hungry man entering a banquet hall. Ares' burning eyes flickered to meet his, and then, slowly, deliberately, moved back down to trace over his body with unconcealed pleasure. 

Woah. Hypnos shivered. He was naked, sure, but now he felt, like, more naked? Which was absurd. But, like, also completely unfair, because he didn't think he could look at someone else that way even if he wanted to, like he was undressing them with his eyes when they were already wearing zero clothes, and like he was promising to utterly ravish them within an inch of their lives - or, whatever. Part of him wanted to cover himself, to hide away from the intensity of Ares' obvious hunger, but another part of him - the part that seemed about ready to set on fire, the part where all of the blood in his body seemed to be diverted - wanted Ares to keep looking, and then maybe take a step forwards. And then maybe find out what happened next. Hypnos inhaled sharply at that realisation, and he clenched his fists at his sides.

Ares noticed that, and carved half his mouth into a lopsided grin. "A bath?" he suggested, and turned to place towards the next room along the corridor without waiting for a response.

Hypnos dallied in the silk-lined corridor for a moment, watching as Ares loped off into the next room. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest as if it were a trapped bird trying to escape. Before he could stop himself, he walked to the next door along the corridor, and stopped short with a small gasp at what he saw within.

It was a perfect bathhouse. White tiles surrounded a deep bath, and thick steam rose from the large pool in the heart of the room. The water had the greenish tinge and the salt-metallic scent of a mineral spring, though it was clearly being heated somehow. 

Ares was already in the pool, reclining against the left-hand side. His big arms rested on the wall, and his head was tipped back, his eyes closed in what seemed like deep relaxation. The water lapped gently around his chest. One hand held a silver goblet - Hypnos realised that there was another one beside it, and an amphora of what he guessed was wine, too. 

Shyly, Hypnos crept forward to the pool steps, dipping a toe into the green water and feeling a flush of delight at how warm it was. Slowly, he sunk himself down until he was submerged to his shoulders, and half-swum, half-waded, to the opposite side of the pool from Ares. Once there, he sunk down even further, so that the water covered his neck, his throat, his mouth, and then he closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly through his nose. Truly, the water did feel lovely. He could feel the tension in his muscles leaking away as he was cocooned in warmth, letting himself be held. No wonder people used waters like this to cure their ailments. 

"Wine?"

Hypnos eyes snapped open. Ares was looking at him with the same intense look as before: restrained, yet almost predatory. The other god gestured with a casual flick of his fingers at the goblet beside him. 

Hypnos looked at the wine, and looked at Ares. A little wine couldn't hurt, could it? He slowly stood, and waded over with as much grace as he could, pulling himself through the water until he stood before Ares, who proffered the goblet wordlessly. The dream-god accepted, and took a sip of wine. It was a thick, heavy red, and he felt it burn a little as it slid down his throat. After a beat, in absence of anything to talk about, he took another small sip. Ares just watched him.

Okay, now it was just getting weird. What were they going to do, just have a bath together and drink wine? Totally normal thing for two gods to do after one of them had given the other one an erotic rubdown, right? This was worse than uncharted territory. It was completely off-the-map territory. Hypnos cast around desperately for something to say, and settled on blurting out "So, where did you get the wine? It's - tasty!"

It's tasty? Blood and darkness.

Ares gestured again at the white stone wall adjacent to them, and Hypnos noticed a table covered in various jars and pots. Suddenly, a light came to Ares eyes, and he grinned. "Wait here a moment, my prize," he said, grinning at the resulting glare from Hypnos, and in one smooth movement he braced his arms on the edge of the pool and lifted himself out. As Ares stood and padded over to the table, Hyonos turned his face away, eyes now fixed on his wine. You'd think he'd be familiar enough with the sight of that body, naked and wet, after this whole encounter so far, and yet - apparently not. 

A small splash alerted him to Ares' return. Hypnos looked up and saw that he held a small jar that looked to be filled with honey-coloured liquid. "For washing hair," Ares explained with a grin.

Hypnos flushed a little, and nodded politely. Ares' smile faded, and he put the pot down beside the goblet.

"You truly do not give in easily, do you?" He murmured, almost as if he were speaking to himself. Ares reached to take the goblet from Hypnos', placing it aside and then reached back to lightly grasp Hypnos' slender wrist with one hand, bringing it out of the water, so that it was held between them. The war-god brought his other hand to Hypnos' palm and gently traced the lines with a sword-callused finger. "I meant what I said before, you know." Ares said, his voice husky and low. 

"Which part?" Hypnos replied, a little breathless. Ares was barely holding him - he could have pulled away easily - but the feeling of those rough fingers on his palm was, well, hypnotic. "The part about - claiming me?"

Ares chuckled. "I mean, I'd enjoy that if you would. But specifically: the part about wanting you to admit what you want. Wanting you to surrender to yourself. Gods only know it takes courage, and as the god of courage, I had hoped that I could assist with that. Don't you think you've fought with yourself long enough already?" He brought Hypnos' hand to his mouth, and grazed his teeth against the fleshy mound of his thumb.

Hypnos' breath caught in his throat again. His voice, when be managed to find it, was rough and unsteady. "What is it that you want, Ares?"

Ares chuckled. His breath was warm against Hypnos' hand, still held against his mouth, and his eyes were fierce and unyielding. "What do I want? I should think I've made that somewhat obvious. I want you, Hypnos. I want to run my fingers and my tongue over every part of you. I want you sprawled under me, writhing and crying out my name. I want to do everything you've ever imagined, and a dozen more wonderful things besides. I want to take you apart until you beg for release." Ares paused and bit at Hypnos' thumb again, a little harder this time. "I want you to tell me what you want. What you truly want."

Hypnos' face was flushed scarlet. He could feel the throb of his heartbeat in his cock. He was so aroused, he could barely speak. "I... want you to -- wash my hair." With that, he turned around, tugging his arm from Ares as he went.

Ares smiled, and reached for the pot.

\----

Gods, but Ares was good at this. Hypnos felt the other god's strong fingers massaging his head into a lather that smelled vaguely citrussy, and relaxed into it. It was as if Ares knew exactly where to apply pressure, rubbing small circles into his scalp that made his muscles tingle. After a while, Ares spoke. "I'll fetch a jug to rinse you." He made as if to get out of the bath again, but Hypnos reached behind him, uneasy at the withdrawal of contact for some reason, and caught hold of his finger. "No! Don't go." Ares' brow furrowed. Before Ares could respond, Hypnos had ducked underwater, and was scrubbing his head with one hand to get rid of the lather, the other hand still grasping Ares' finger.

A second later, Hypnos was being hauled upwards. "Hypnos!" A strong arm was around his waist, lifting him to his feet, and then both hands were at his head, stroking the sopping wet curls out of his face. “Are you well?” demanded Ares, an edge of panic in his voice, and Hypnos felt his heart clench. He opened his mouth to say yes, of course, did Ares think he’d fainted or something - and then paused, the words dying on his lips, at the strong arms that still encircled him, rough fingers still pushing the mass of curls out of his face. It felt… right.

Hypnos bit his lip, and took one step forward. Then another. Unbidden, his hands came up to trace the flat planes of Ares’ abdomen, skimming lightly upwards to brush over the dusting of wiry hair on his firm pectorals. He glanced up at Ares through his long, wet lashes, a question in his eyes. The answer was the slow grin that crept across Ares' face, one hand still in Hypnos' dripping curls, the other drifting down lightly to rest on his shoulder. Even now, Ares wouldn't close the gap between them. 

Hypnos splayed his long fingers across Ares' chest, and stood on his tiptoes, bracing his weight against the war-god's bulk. He tilted his face upwards. "Kiss me," he whispered. 

A surge of triumph flashed in Ares' eyes, and then came a smouldering heat as he held Hypnos' gaze. One thumb brushed down from the white curls to lightly stroke the dream-god's chin, and then Ares lowered his lips and pressed them gently against him in a chaste kiss. Hypnos could taste him then, wine and copper on his skin. His confidence growing, he licked along Ares lip and was rewarded with a growl that he felt reverberating in his own chest. Ares opened his mouth immediately, clutching the back of Hypnos' head, and then their tongues met and entwined. 

As Hypnos tongue flickered into Ares' mouth, the big god's hands cradled his head again. This time both of Ares' hands began to move over him, venturing gradually lower, inch by inch, until they had stroked over his shoulder blades, down his back, and both came to rest on his firm buttocks. Ares gave an experimental squeeze, and as Hypnos let out a little moan, he swear he felt the war-god grin into their kisses. 

Kissing was really very good. Touching was good too, it seemed.

Hypnos rolled his hips back, pushing into Ares' hands, and this time both hands clasped his ass hard, scooping him upwards and into Ares' body so that he was held against his chest. Their cocks were pushed together against their stomachs, and Hypnos couldn't help but grind into Ares' hard length. The friction was better than anything he had felt before, when it was just him and his hands. This - the power, the taste, the smell - this was better than he could have dreamed. It was unreal. He bucked their cocks together again.

This time it was Ares who let out a soft moan, and he broke away from their increasingly frantic kisses to stand up in the water, Hypnos' legs wrapped around his waist. He looked as dazed as Hypnos felt, and his eyes were heavy-lidded with lust. "Bed?" he bit out, and pressed a kiss to Hypnos' neck.

"Bed," Hypnos confirmed.


	4. Bedded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is... only one bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut follows below.

Ares was still carrying Hypnos as they entered the next room. Hypnos' legs were wrapped tight around him, all their clothes long abandoned, and they pressed hot, lingering kisses into each other as they went.

True to Hypnos' word, the room contained a large bed, its headboard in the shape of a gilded chariot, and its sizeable mattress covered in silks and cushions. 

At the foot of the bed, Ares grasped the dream-god's arse and tossed him lightly on to the mattress, chuckling as Hypnos let out a brief squeal. The dream-god blushed, sprawling on the silk sheets, and Ares seemed to see him as if for the first time. He paused for a moment and let himself longer over Hypnos, casting an admiring gaze over his golden eyes, his thick hair that was drying into fluffy white curls, down his slim, wiry torso to the patch of soft white hair where his hard, pale cock was currently jutting upwards. For the umpteenth time that night, Hypnos felt especially naked under that arresting stare. He liked it, he realised. And in this room, with the god who had spent so long undoing his defences, he could say so. Hypnos felt his pulse quicken as he licked his lips and said quietly, "Ares… I like it when you look at me that way."

Ares grinned wolfishly and climbed onto the bed, kneeling over the dream-god's lithe form. He leaned down to kiss him again, and Hypnos moaned into his mouth as he felt the war-god grasp his cock. The feel of the rough, calloused fingers that encircled him was exquisite, and as their tongues moved together, Ares' fingers brushed against the sensitive head of his cock, and Hypnos gasped hard at that sharp thrill of pleasure. 

At that, Ares released his grip, and brought both hands up to Hypnos' chest. His thumbs idly brushed over Hypnos' nipples, sending another jolt of sensation through him. "Too much?" 

Breathless, Hypnos nodded. "I just - it's a lot more. With another person, I mean. More than I'm used to. I might - it might not be very long. Before I. You know." He wanted to hide his face in the sheets, but Ares kept looking at him, with a glint of humour in his eyes. 

"I don't think that will be a major issue, Hypnos." Ares said drily. "I, for one, am not planning to leave until I've made you come - oh, probably three or four times." He trailed a finger idly along the length of Hypnos' cock. 

Hypnos shuddered as the rough finger brushed along his shaft. His cock jumped visibly at the touch, and Ares chuckled. "I'm glad to see you're as eager as I am, my prize." As he spoke, he moved his thumb to the tip of Hypnos' cock, where it was starting to get wet, and gently moved the wetness around the head of his cock until it glistened. Hypnos felt his balls tighten as Ares continued to tease him there, the pleasure building so relentlessly that it bordered on unbearable. "In fact," Ares continued blithely, "we should probably get moving if we want to keep to my, ah, battle plan." With a quirk of his lip, he lifted Hypnos bodily towards the cushions so he was half propped-up, bent over the sprawled god, and swallowed his cock in one smooth glide.

Hypnos gasped and reflexively clenched his fingers into the silk sheets. Sensation overcame him. He could feel Ares' tongue running up and down his hard length, could feel the incredible warmth and wetness of the war-god's mouth surrounding him, and his hips bucked uncontrollably, eliciting a moan from Ares that hummed against his cock. 

Ares lifted his head to cast a heated gaze at Hypnos. "So beautiful," he murmured. He took Hypnos' cock in one hand, pressing his tongue to the sensitive slit in a gentle lick that sent a wave of warmth through Hypnos' body. With his other hand, he began to massage Hypnos' balls, his palm cupping them gently, turning them in the silky skin, tugging them lightly. Now and then he broke his mouth away from Hypnos' stiff, soaking cock to lavish his wet tongue on his balls.

Hypnos was lost in a sea of pleasure. He couldn't say how long they remained there, him sprawled in wanton disarray, and the statuesque, masterful war-god bent over him, intent on his enjoyment. It felt like his wildest dream come true, except that he would never have dared to dream like this. He could have stayed there forever, with Ares' skilled lips and tongue and throat sliding against him and setting his skin on fire. 

At some indeterminate point in the haze of Hypnos' being fondled and tongued, Ares began to move his hand from gentle caresses of his tender balls to the sensitive patch of skin behind them, pressing the skin gently at first, and then more insistently. Hypnos quivered at the increase in stimulation, and pushed his hips down a little in response.

Raising his head, Ares reached up to Hypnos' face with one index finger, and held it above his lips, a questioning look in his eyes. His breath hitching, Hypnos parted his lips and accepted the finger into his mouth, sucking it and tonguing it thoroughly. He chanced a look at Ares' cock and was gratified to see it was as hard as if he'd been licking it directly. 

Satisfied at Hypnos' efforts, Ares withdrew his wet finger and moved his lips back down to Hypnos' cock. Tentatively, he moved his slippery finger further back, to Hypnos' small, neat hole.

As Ares circled the sensitive ring, Hypnos flung an arm across his face to hide his eyes. "Ares!" he moaned, his voice a little too hgih-pitched. What did he mean? Stop. Darkness. No. Continue.

Ares looked up at him, cock in his mouth, and slowly withdrew from it to look at Hypnos again. "Hypnos!" He said, and his voice was sterner now. "Do not hide yourself from your pleasure." Sheepishly, Hypnos uncovered his eyes. "Tell me, do you want me to desist?" 

"I - I don't know. I can't - I've never - I want to, but… will it hurt?" His voice was very small, and his face was burning. He felt raw, exposed, on the edge of something - he didn't know what. 

Ares softened, and he pressed a kiss to Hypnos' taut stomach. "You are doing so well, my prize." He circled Hypnos' ring again with his wet finger, and lazily brushed his other hand down Hypnos' leaking cock. "I'm going to touch you here," - Ares tapped his ring, and Hypnos shivered - "until you come, hard. It won't hurt, I promise you. I shall help you relax to make it easier. Later, if you want me to fuck you, I'll prepare you so that it won't hurt very much - in fact, I flatter myself that it will feel exceedingly pleasurable." 

Hypnos felt equal parts aroused and terrified, and Ares grinned at the look on his face. "Yes?" The war-god asked, punctuating his question with a light press against Hypnos' hole.

Faced with the way Ares talked, the way he handled Hypnos - the compassion, the confidence… Hypnos felt his last defences crumble. He had been a fool to shy away from this. He wanted to know this. He wanted to be mastered. 

"Oh… yes. I want this, Ares. I - I want all of that. Just as you said." Hypnos breathed. He felt Ares' finger press against his entrance, and then an odd sense of pressure there as he was slowly breached again. He tried to relax himself as he bucked his hips against it, pushing the finger deeper inside him. When the finger was deep inside him, Ares' crooked a finger and touched - something - that made him buck wildly and yelp in ecstasy. One deft touch, coupled with a sweep of Ares' tongue over the crown of his cock, and Hypnos was overcome, the blinding light of his climax sending pulsing waves of exquisite pleasure through his whole body. 

When he regained his senses, Ares had moved up alongside him and was propped up on one elbow, facing him and smiling quietly. With a jolt, Hypnos realised that Ares' finger was still very much inside him. He looked down past his chest, covered in lashings of his come, to his wilting cock, and Ares' hand that was still resting between his legs. Or, maybe not resting, because right then he felt Ares' finger jerk gently inside him. Somehow he felt even more sensitive to the touch now. He looked up at Ares to find a wicked grin on his face. 

"I trust that was a pleasant first skirmish? I for one am certainly eager for the campaign to continue," said Ares, with feigned innocence. He glanced down pointedly, and Hypnos followed his gaze downwards to Ares' rigid cock. It was larger than Hypnos', thick and veined, and he could almost still feel where it had been pressed against his body earlier. Darkness, but Ares was handsome. And rugged, and powerful, and - and inside him. Still. He could feel his muscles relaxing against Ares' finger, growing used to that strange pressure, wanting more.

Hypnos was overcome with different desires. He wanted to lower himself down onto that hard cock and take it in his mouth. No, he wanted to roll on top of Ares and press their bodies together and clutch Ares' cock in his hand. No - he wanted to let Ares open him up completely and then push his cock inside him over and over again. Hypnos bit his lip distractedly, trying to clear his head so he could decide properly. It was awfully hard to have so many choices and not have clue which one to pick. How should he know what would feel best? His hips bucked unthinkingly against the finger inside him.

Ares let out a soft laugh as Hypnos scrunched his face in distracted thought. "Come here," he said, withdrawing his finger from Hypnos' arse and picking the sleep-god up so that he sat on top of Ares, straddling his hips. He rolled his hips gently and Hypnos felt the press of Ares' hard cock against his buttocks. He bent down to kiss Ares, a kiss that started chastely and became more heated by the second, and the dream-god broke away after a few moments, panting.

"Ares - will you fuck me?" He asked, hardly blushing at all this time. As if to demonstrate his willingness, he arched his back and rubbed himself against Ares' cock. 

"Hypnos," Ares breathed, rutting against him, "I should like nothing more." Ares pulled him down to crush his lips in another forceful kiss. They broke apart, both panting. "Oil?" Ares asked hoarsely.

Hypnos barely had to blink before a vial of oil appeared on the bed. He pulled out the stopper and handed it to Ares, who drizzled it liberally onto his fingers. Ares glanced up and studied Hypnos face for a moment. "You haven't done this before."

It wasn't a question, and even though Hypnos felt sure Ares knew of his lack of experience, he still felt a little embarrassed. "This is - my first time," he mumbled, his voice a whisper.

Ares pulled him down for another heated kiss. "You are a treasure, Hypnos. I do not mean to embarrass you, only - it will mean that we take things more slowly to begin with, that's all." He lifted Hypnos' hips slightly and brought them down again onto two of his waiting fingers. Hypnos moaned as they entered him. Ares talked to him softly as he began to slowly fuck the fingers deeper inside him. "You are doing so well, my prize. You look so beautiful with me inside you. I can't wait to see you take my cock." 

Hypnos groaned as the fingers thrust against that tender spot inside him. He felt the oiled fingers opening him up, stretching him out. "P-please, Ares. I'm ready. I can take it." Hypnos was by no means certain of that, but he couldn't wait any longer.

Ares said nothing, but withdrew his fingers and picked Hypnos up as if he weighed nothing, placing him on his stomach on the bed. "On your hands and knees," he rasped, his voice unsteady. Hypnos pulled himself to his hands and knees, and instantly felt Ares' cock behind him, pushing at his hole. One of Ares' hands was holding his hip, the thumb gently caressing his hipbone, and then he felt a great pressure as Ares slowly entered him.

Hypnos couldn't help but gasp as Ares inched into him. His cock was large and weighty and unbending, so unlike the clever fingers that had prepared him. He felt filled up and stretched out, as though Ares was pressing against him and expanding him from the inside. He knew with sudden clarity that everything from that first time he sensed the Olympian in the dreamworld had been building to this.

"Try to relax, my prize," murmured Ares from behind him, still rhythmically stroking Hypnos' hips, his cock half-buried inside by now. Hypnos nodded and exhaled slowly, willing his muscles to relax, and Ares began to work his way further inside him with slow, precise thrusts, each one a little deeper than the last, until Hypnos felt his buttocks pressing against Ares' hips. He felt impossibly full, and the slight pain and pressure warred with his intense arousal at being fucked. 

Behind him, Ares groaned. "By Olympus, Hypnos. The way you feel against my cock." The god began to move slowly back and forth inside Hypnos, who was still braced on his hands and knees. The friction and the fullness gave Hypnos an odd sensation, somewhere between pain and pleasure. After a moment, Ares moved his hands to pull Hypnos' hips to a slightly different position, and this time when he thrust back into Hypnos he hit that magical spot that lit him on fire with pleasure. Hypnos let out a wordless cry, his cock springing to life again, and Ares began to target that spot ruthlessly, driving against it with unerring aim and unwavering conviction. Over and over Ares thrust inside him, as the dream-god cried out his pleasure into the darkness. Before long, Hypnos was on the brink of climax again, his balls tightening to his body.

"Ares," he managed to get out between thrusts, "will you come inside me? I - I should like to feel it." 

At once Ares grasped Hypnos' shoulders and pulled him back, so that Hypnos' back was pressed against Ares' chest. Hypnos felt Ares' thick arm around his chest, supporting him. The other hand returned to his hip, steadying him as Ares thrust into him again. He felt teeth dragging against the sensitive skin at the back of his neck and then a voice in his ear rasped, "Come". Hypnos was powerless to resist, and at that instant he climaxed, thick ropes of come spurting out onto the bed. Ares thrust harder, and bit down on his shoulder harder this time. 

"Mine," he growled, and Hypnos felt one final jerk and then a flood of warmth inside him. 

For a moment they remained there, pressed together, until Ares dropped a gentle kiss on Hypnos' shoulder and withdrew himself. Hypnos picked up the sullied sheet and wiped himself, then vanished it. He climbed onto the bed and adopted what he hoped was a sultry pose, throwing an arm above his head and drawing one leg up as he declined on the pillows.

"Are you well, Hypnos?" Ares enquired, looking slightly alarmed.

"What? Oh. Uh, no. I mean, yes!" Flustered, Hypnos brought his arm down and crossed both arms across his chest. "I'm fine. That was really great." He gulped in a semi-successful attempt to hide his nerves, which for some reason had not been successfully quashed by all the fucking. "Would you like to -" Snuggle? "- to sleep? You don't have to, it's totally fine," he continued hastily - but Ares was already grinning and climbing into position alongside him, tugging a silk blanket over them. "I could hardly refuse an invitation like that from the god of sleep, now, could I?" 

Ares stretched out his arms, and after a moment Hypnos snuggled into the crook of his shoulder. "Well, there are some things I'm good at," Hypnos murmured wryly, his eyelids already beginning to droop.

"Oh, my prize," Ares replied drowsily, as his arm cradled Hypnos, "you have no idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this! I'm @louissioul on Twitter if you'd like to say hello :-)


End file.
